hotbox_monk

Im deciding to purchase another 1000 Acres of land in your head. Here is an example of how i actually used ChatGPT- The writing i actually had to do because the AI wasnt willing to go the length, but vocabulary revitalizations and trying to narrow down casting mechanics and redlines were apart of the AI process. Some parts of the writing were able to be carried out to the fullest extent with lengthly prompts and details, but without the given information the AI usually doesn’t give the hoped for result.

Okay so here is an excerpt of my own writing from 2 years ago when i still actively played. “From the ilk of Urir Ireheart emerged the cursed bloodline of the Dorkadrel. Their very existence defied most laws of the descendents. Cast out and forced to rise from the ashes, the Doomforged have always taken up their own arms to hold fast during times of war. A storm has been brewing for much time, as the Doomforged have foreseen this many moons ago. As the Elders gathered for what seemed to be several stone days. They had finally emerged from the council chambers of Az’Nolvar. They came to a conclusion and had begun sending word to any remaining kin of theirs.” Now here is an excerpt from AI taking the concept and re-fashioning it into a different style without having to constantly refer to a thesaurus or whatever it is you doomer posters use these days. “ Verily, from the kin of Urir Ireheart didst arise the accursed bloodline of the Dorkadrel. Their very existence didst flout most laws of descent. Ostracized and forced to rise from the ashes, the Doomforged hath ever taken up their own arms to hold fast during times of war. Lo, a tempest hath been brewing for much time, as the Doomforged hath foreseen this many moons ago. As the Elders didst gather for what seemed to be several stone days, they didst finally emerge from the council chambers of Az’Nolvar. They came to a conclusion and didst begin sending word to any remaining kin of theirs.” Hate it or love it as you will see the previous 3 posts i have made all branded with the black drake picture have had AI incorporated into the posts. Sort of a personal experiment i wanted to see what limitations there truly were and to see if better content could be created like using Midjourney for art. But yeah — as you can see my own real writing is ill comparison to the AI, but thats okay because we live in a world where tech and human minds co exist. I recommend this tool to anyone who struggles as you can take it a step further and really learn from the AI as you can have it explain vocabulary and simply break down the structure of its writing so that you can kinda digest that use it in your own.

“In the fields was I toiling, when lo, mine ears did hear a cacophonous sound, as of thunderous hooves approaching at pace. Thus did I look upon the horizon, and did espy a host of riders bearing banners of the Paladin, and my heart was glad, for I thought that salvation had come. But then did mine eyes bear witness to a darker force. The Black Riders approached, like a shadow made manifest, enshrouding the Paladin in a maelstrom of fire and lightning. The din of clashing blades and the pitiful cries of the dying rent the air, and I knew that we were embroiled in a battle for our very lives. Though the Paladin fought valiantly, their cause was lost. The Black Riders emerged victorious, their dread powers laying low the defenders of our village with merciless ease. Oh, the horror and the carnage that I did witness that day! It shall stay with me until the end of my days.” -- Jahatar, Halfling of Eos and Aos. Behold, the Black Riders, a grim cohort of heralds draped in the darkness of ebony and crimson, whose ominous presence on the field of battle portends the impending doom of Azdromoth's conquest. Their steeds, black as the darkest void, thunder across the land, their hooves leaving deep imprints upon the earth, heralding the inevitable arrival of the Titan's wrath. Long has their legacy been forged in the crucible of war, and their culture steeped in bloodshed and carnage. Unlike their predecessors, the heralds of the Black Riders are not subservient to the Azdrazi, but rather wield their powers as the favored servants of Azdromoth, whose gifts of draan flow directly from their master's will. The path to becoming an Ordained Herald of the Black Riders is not for the faint of heart nor the weak of will, for it is steeped in the grimmest of trials and tribulations. The unordained heralds are subject to ruthless tests, tasks, and other forms of torment at the hands of the Black Riders. Only those mortals who have proven their worth, and demonstrated their willingness to serve Azdromoth with unwavering devotion, are deemed worthy of receiving the Ordainment. Those who have earned the mark of the Ordained Herald are the chosen few, elevated to a position of honor and respect among the followers of Azdromoth. They stand closest to the dragon's majesty, their status as near-equals to the Azdrazi themselves earned through the hardest of battles and the fiercest of trials. Yet, even the Ordained Heralds of the Black Riders are not immune to the wrath of their master, for they too must serve his will with the utmost obedience and loyalty. Those who fail in their duties, or stray from the path of Azdromothian faith, are met with swift and terrible punishment. The personality traits of the Black Riders are not those of the meek nor the humble, but rather of the ambitious, the prideful, and the stubborn. They are warriors, born and bred for the horrors of war and the terror of battle. They are not afraid to face death, for they know that it is only through the embrace of mortality that they may rise again, reborn in the fiery crucible of Azdromoth's will. To exist as a rogue Black Rider is to invite the wrath of their master and the fury of their brethren. For the Black Riders, there is no room for doubt, no tolerance for weakness, and no mercy for those who would stand against Azdromoth's will. In the end, the Black Riders serve as the heralds of the coming apocalypse, a grim omen of the Titan's conquest against Aengudaemonica and the heralds of his wrath. They are a testament to the power and glory of Azdromoth, and to the unwavering loyalty of his chosen servants. The very sight of the Black Riders is enough to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies, and their arrival on the battlefield is often enough to turn the tide of a battle in Azdromoth's favor. Their legend is whispered in hushed tones throughout the land, their deeds immortalized in songs and tales of heroism and sacrifice. The Black Riders are the stuff of nightmares, the harbingers of death and destruction, and the embodiment of the Dragon God's will. Yet, even as they ride across the land, leaving behind them a trail of destruction and terror, there are those who would seek to join their ranks. For there are some who crave power, who long for the strength and the glory that comes with serving the Dragon God. And so they seek out the Black Riders, hoping to prove themselves worthy of Azdromoth's favor. But the path to becoming a Black Rider is a treacherous one, filled with danger and uncertainty. Many who attempt the trials do not survive, and those who do often emerge forever changed. For the power of the Dragon God is not easily wielded, and those who would seek to serve him must be willing to pay any price. And so the Black Riders continue to ride, their thundering hooves echoing across the land. They are the harbingers of doom, the bringers of death, and the favored servants of Azdromoth. They are the Black Riders, and their legend will endure long after the Titan's conquest is complete.

Ofc - I only just returned to the server. This is just me knocking off some rust.

From the deepest caves of the earth, A monster stirred, with wings of black, His eyes ablaze with a demonic mirth, And his roar, a terrifying attack. The dragon's scales were like obsidian, Reflecting a darkness that knew no end, And his breath, a fiery oblivion, Could consume armies and their men. In the land of Eos and Aos, he found his prey, A Sunlit Paladin, pure and just, But the dragon cared not for holy way, And his hunger, he could not adjust. Their battle was a gruesome sight, As the Paladin struck with his blade, But the dragon's flames, they burned so bright, And the Paladin's fate was soon to fade. With a final blow, the Paladin fell, And the dragon, with a sinister grin, Devoured him whole, and reveled in his hell, As the Paladin's soul was consumed within. But the dragon, he was no mere beast, For within him, an elf was bound, Kassian the elf, now a twisted priest, In darkness and evil, he was found. With the Paladin's blood on his lips, Kassian reveled in his new power, For he was the darkness, and the apocalypse, A force that could devour. The kingdom trembled at his name, For they knew not the true horror within, But Kassian, the dragon of death and shame, Rejoiced in his sin. (Poetry by hotbox - This is about no particular scenario and is instead simply a flavor piece about my character Kassian and his transition to that of a herald. Enjoy or don’t. Read or don’t. Either way ily <3) [As well as this piece is simply for reading and not for IRP use unless disclosed further IRPly.]

Its minecraft. Require any further point? In fairnes the blood magic part was probably an overstep, but the concept is enjoyable to me personally, but with the given stigma I could see why it wouldn't be to the community. All in all I wrote this as a way for me to get back into lotc a bit and the rhythm of writing again. Enjoy or don't, but don't take it too seriously and try and remember that these are ficitional spells to be used in a pixelated text based roleplaying game. Bless you all and enjoy the read - Seriously I haven't seen anyone comment ab Arraxes yet or the concept of a new dragon :( very sad

I definitely agree with you! And by all means I appreciate any and all feedback as I am passionate about writing, but I understand that I have overlooked key points pertaining to blood magic and failed to acknowledge it at its fullest - as well as you are also correct that in creating this as a standalone piece with some applied nerfs could result in a good addition! Most definitely agree there - I had created this magic as a powerful subset with the given mindset that it would be nerfed upon review anyways - though I suppose that is a rather negative mindset to have and I should have prepared it better for actual roleplay-use. Except blood magic has its own version to arcane displacement and currently any particular travel outside of the given realm is extremely gatekept and locked. It is my hopes that even after review/edits and nerfs that this ability may still be given the light of day as it is meant to differ from shunting. Of course I would not be opposed to the implementation of the Outvoker on a more extreme scale to balance this spell.

Its a Feat for nephilim and MA for heralds - I gotta finish up some formatting and footnotes- thats my bad for lack of clarification Honestly that was my first thought when re reading it over - I solo authored this and didn't really reach out for feedback - The blood magic sect is to refinforce justification and perhaps I could write out the blood magic part and simply create an addition to dragonsflame itself - But im glad Im recieving feedback now, because these are all changes I am more than willing to apply - Also as for the power of the spells I simply put them to highest point that I thought realistic as its natural for ST to nerf during the review processes.

I vehemently love Walmart. Sorry pal.

The Blasphemous Blood-Fire of Arraxes In the elder days of the world, when dragons still roamed the realm and the art of magic was but a glimmer in the eye of man, there was a rare and powerful magic known as blood fire. This magic was born of the union between the fierce flame of the dragons and the ancient art of blood magic, and it was said to grant its practitioners incredible power and strength. To wield this magic, a dragon and a skilled magician would need to perform a ritual of great complexity and danger. The dragon would need to breathe forth a great gout of flame, which the magician would then capture and bind using the arcane power of blood magic. The resulting blood fire was said to be a force to be reckoned with, burning with a fierce and unquenchable heat that could ignite even the most stubborn of materials. Those who mastered this magic were said to be able to control the very elements themselves, summoning fourth great storms of fire and lightning to devastate their enemies and protect their allies. But such power came with a heavy price. The blood fire was a volatile and unpredictable magic, and those who attempted to wield it often found themselves consumed by its fierce energies. Many brave dragons and magicians had been lost to its allure, their bodies consumed by the raging inferno that they had summoned forth. Yet despite the risks, there were always those who sought to master the blood fire. For they knew that with such power at their fingertips, they could achieve greatness beyond measure and leave a lasting legacy in the world. The first of them would be the great dragon, Arraxes. (!) In the First Age of the world, there lived a great dragon named Arraxes. He was a creature of immense size and power, his wings stretching across the sky as he flew from place to place, leaving a trail of smoke and fire in his wake. Arraxes was a curious dragon, always seeking new knowledge and power. And it was in this quest for power that he discovered the ancient art of blood magic. This forbidden magic was shrouded in mystery and fear, spoken of only in hushed tones by those who dared to speak of it at all. It was said that those who practiced blood magic were able to harness the power of their own blood, using it to create great magical artifacts and to perform rituals of great power. Arraxes was fascinated by this magic, and he devoted himself to learning all that he could about it. He delved deep into ancient tomes, seeking out hidden knowledge and secrets long forgotten by the rest of the world. As he learned more about blood magic, Arraxes began to experiment with it, using his own flame and blood to create powerful magical artifacts. He used these artifacts in rituals to enhance the strength and abilities of himself and his kin. But the use of blood magic was strictly forbidden by the wise ones of Eos and Aos, who saw it as a dangerous and corrupting force. Those who practiced it were shunned and ostracized, their names spoken only in whispers of fear and loathing. Despite this, Arraxes persisted in his studies, convinced that the power of blood magic was worth any cost. And so, he became among the first of the dragonkin to master the forbidden art of blood fire, a magic that would be shrouded in mystery and fear for ages to come. As Arraxes delved deeper into the forbidden art of blood fire, he began to attract a following of mortals and nephilim alike who were also seeking power and knowledge. Together, they formed a coven at the heel of Arraxes' domain, a lone mountain on a lonely island. The coven was devoted to the study of blood magic, and they spent long hours delving into the ancient texts and rituals of this dark art. They were a secretive group, hidden away from the rest of the world, and they were feared and shunned by those who knew of their existence. But as the years passed, tensions began to rise within the coven. Some of the mortals and nephilim grew jealous of Arraxes' power and influence, and they began to plot against him. One dark night, as Arraxes slept, the members of the coven struck. They surrounded the great dragon and, using the power of blood magic, they were able to overcome him. As Arraxes lay dying, the coven fled, taking with them the dragon's lexicon of blood fire, a powerful tome filled with the secrets of this forbidden magic. For many years, the knowledge of blood fire was lost, and the coven was thought to have been disbanded. It was said that the coven had attracted Azdromoth’s own ilk and the likes of his nephilim had been the ones to plot the demise of Arraxes and the theft of his blasphemous lexicon of blood fire. It was the lesser dragonkin whomst realized they could themselves conjure forth the dragons flame required in the blood fire rituals which drove them to usurp the dragon. But eventually, the secrets of this dark art were rediscovered by a herald of the dragonkin, a powerful drake-knight who sought to reclaim the lost knowledge of his ancestors. The herald searched long and hard for the lexicon, following the whispers and rumors of its existence until he finally came across it hidden away in a forgotten library. And with its help, he was able to reclaim the power of blood fire and use it to great effect. The blood fire, a magic unlike any other, is a source of both great power and great danger. It is born from the union of blood magic and dragon's flame, two forces that are said to be as old as the world itself. To wield blood fire is to invite disaster, for it is a magic that consumes the mortal soul. Those who seek to harness its power must be willing to pay a great price, for the blood fire will demand a sacrifice in return. It is a magic that demands complete and total devotion, and those who seek to wield it must be prepared to give up everything they hold dear. The blood fire twists and corrupts the soul of the Paladin, turning them into something dark and terrible. It consumes their very being, leaving nothing behind but a husk of their former selves. Those who fall to the blood fire are feared and reviled by all, for they are no longer the champions of justice that they once were. They are now servants of the dragons, bound to their will and forced to do their bidding. The blood fire is a powerful and dangerous magic, one that should be avoided at all costs. Those who seek to wield it are fools, for they do not understand the true cost of its power. It is a magic that demands everything, and it will take everything in return. Rituals This magic, born from the flames of dragons and the power of blood magic, was a force to be reckoned with. The dragonkin would gather together in great rituals, calling forth the power of the dragons and channeling it through their own bodies. They would use the power of blood fire to perform powerful spells and summon great magical forces. The rituals were said to be both beautiful and terrifying to behold, the air filled with the sound of chanting and the scent of burning blood. The dragonkin would call forth the flames of the dragons, conjuring forth great pillars of fire that reached up to the sky. As the flames burned higher, the dragonkin would enter into a trance-like state, their eyes glowing with the power of the dragons. They would then unleash this power upon their enemies, unleashing great destruction and devastation upon those who dared to oppose them. The power of the blood fire rituals was greatly feared and respected by all who knew of them, and the dragonkin guarded their secrets closely. These rituals were passed down through the generations, a powerful and ancient magic that would continue to shape the destiny of the dragonkin for ages to come. The Blood Fire Tear - In a time long ago, the dragonkin were a proud and ancient race, renowned for their mastery of the arcane arts. Their powers were feared and respected, but none were as mysterious or as feared as their ability to wield the blood fire. This forbidden magic allowed them to open portals to other realms and create undaunted artifice. It was a power that many coveted, but only the bravest and most skilled among the dragonkin dared to wield. To perform this dark ritual, the dragonkin would first call upon the most powerful of dragons, those creatures whose flames burned with the hottest and most intense heat. These noble beasts were said to possess the breath of the gods, and it was their fiery essence that the dragonkin sought to harness. With the aid of the dragons, the dragonkin would then invoke the power of the blood fire, summoning forth its fierce and unstable energies. But the ritual did not end there. The dragonkin would sacrifice one of their own, offering up the vital essence of their kin in a ghastly ritual of blood magic. As the blood of the sacrifice flowed freely, the dragonkin would channel its inner flame into the waiting flames of the dragons, infusing them with a potent and elder draconic energy reminiscent to that of the Arch-Drakaar's own. The inner flame units required for this ritual were significant, and many heralds and nephilim were needed to complete the task. The ritual was a dangerous and unpredictable one, and only the most skilled among the dragonkin could hope to survive its use. With the rite complete, the dragons would unleash their fearsome breath, opening a rift in the fabric of the world itself. Through this portal, the dragonkin could pass into other realms, traveling to distant lands and exploring the mysteries of the many worlds that lay in waiting to be discovered. But be warned, for those who dared to tamper with the blood fire did so at great risk, for its power was both dangerous and unpredictable. Few were those who had ventured forth and returned unchanged by the experience. The Goblet of Blood & Fire - In ages long past, the dragonkin were known to conduct dark rituals of blood magic, summoning forth the power of the blood fire to bend the forces of the world to their will. One such ritual was known as the Goblet of Blood and Fire, a fearsome rite that sought to grant the dragonkin the power of prophecy. To create the Goblet, the dragonkin would call upon each and every one of those whose flames burned with the purest and most intense heat. From these noble nephilim, they would gather the fiery essence of their breath, using it to forge the Goblet from the rarest of metals. (must be resistant to dragonsflame). Once the Goblet was complete, the dragonkin would perform the ritual of blood magic, offering up the sacrifice of one of their own to infuse the Goblet with the power of the blood fire. As the sacrifice's essence flowed into the metal, the Goblet would begin to glow with an otherworldly light, pulsing with the energy of the arcane. With the ritual complete, the dragonkin would drink from the Goblet, allowing them to see into the future and glimpse the prophecies that lay hidden in the mists of time. The Blood-Fire Forge The dragonkin were a fierce and noble race, and they held the power of the blood fire forge in great reverence. They believed that by bonding their weapons with the power of dragons flame and blood magic, they could create powerful artifice that would enhance their strength and abilities. To use the blood fire forge, the dragonkin would first gather the blood of their kin, a sacred and precious substance. They would then pour this blood into the forge, fueling the dragons flame that burned within. As the flames rose higher, the dragonkin would place their weapon into the forge, allowing it to be imbued with the power of the dragons flame and blood magic. This process was said to be both dangerous and exhilarating, for the heat of the forge was intense and the power of the magic was great. Those who were able to bond their weapons at the blood fire forge were greatly respected by their kin, for they had proven their bravery and skill. And with their enhanced weapons, they were able to go forth and vanquish their enemies, striking fear into the hearts of all who opposed them. The use of the blood fire forge was a closely guarded secret, known only to a select few among the dragonkin. And so, the powerful artifice created at the forge remained a mystery to the rest of the world, its existence whispered about in hushed tones and legend. In every regard, using the blood fire forge is a dangerous feat and often considered a ritual that would require the presence of the most skilled blacksmiths. The forge is where inscriptions would be placed upon that of the draconic armaments and where blood and fire would find union as they are each imbued into the blade. Blood-Fire Inscriptions The dragonkin knew that the power of their weapons did not come from the blades themselves, but from the intricate draconic inscriptions etched into their surfaces. These inscriptions were ancient symbols of great power, calling upon the blood fire that their blades had been imbued with and commanding it to perform certain spells. The dragonkin were masters of these inscriptions, and they spent many sleepless nights studying and perfecting them. They knew that the slightest error in the symbol or the placement of a single line could mean the difference between victory and defeat. When a dragonkin went into battle, they would recite the draconic inscriptions etched into their blade, calling upon the power of the blood fire to enhance their strength and abilities. The blade would then glow with a fierce, otherworldly light, and the dragonkin would be filled with the power of dragons. Flame Torrent - This inscription summons a cascading deluge of searing flames that engulfs the battlefield in a maelstrom of fire. The intense heat of the flames is capable of melting plate armor, and the torrent of fire is capable of scorching even the most resistant of foes. Ethereal Form - This inscription allows the caster to assume an ethereal form, becoming incorporeal and immune to physical attacks. The caster is able to pass through solid objects and move with otherworldly speed, making them nearly impossible to catch. Arraxes’ Wrath - [May not be placed upon small bits of jewelry.] This inscription is the ultimate expression of the dragonkin's power, and is only called upon in the direst of circumstances. When cast, it summons a great dragon of flame and fire, whose mighty roar and scorching breath are capable of laying waste to sizable groups of enemies. Blood Fire Arrows - This inscription imbues the caster's arrows with the power of blood fire, enabling them to ignite upon impact and deal devastating damage to their target. The arrows are infused with the very essence of the dragonkin's inner flame, and their strike is said to be like the fiery breath of a dragon. Paladin purification This is purely left up to OOC discretion and should the Paladin acknowledge and accept the terms of becoming engulfed by the blood fire then they will then hand over the rights of their character to the ST and ST management for future event-use. [Author's Note] The only reason it is titled both MA and Feat is because it includes both spells and rituals for each, as some inscriptions are limited to only nephilim as they require inner flame to activate.

New Year, new drazi lore 😈

Its a game my friend. i will give you this advice in that you should not take what happens to your character too personally or to heart. think of a powergamer like your first time fighting a souls boss. its aggravating, but its also just a game and you’re not gonna quit on the first try are you? No. all in all. people here already know who’s - who and its up to you to, to be able to roll with the punches and continuously provide quality rp in the face of idiocy. there comes a certain point when someone starts to realize their actions when you are reacting positively and outplay them purely through your ability of writing. trust me. the single emote, triple back flip naruto elden ring movesets shine bright amidst true and honest roleplay. just keep doing your thang fam, hang in there! :)

Okay this is actually really cool

Adrianus de Sola remembers fondly of his brother, Augustus d’Amaury. Their grandfather, Titus de Sola, had trained them both within the confines of Dour Watch somewhere between three centuries ago. Oh, somewhere far flung in the Seven Heavens did that son of Sola smile the Sun’s smile as his kinsmen united.

“A tale as old as time, There is One who must rise, Battle he must for the truth in a world full of lies, Beneath the realm of lost souls, As it is above damnations blight, For there is one who knows, That they all must die, Alas a tale as old as time, Fret or nay fret the ode of the nine.” It was the fifth day of The Grand Harvest and Kassian finally neared the end of his pilgrimage to the First Thinking Tree, or what had remained. The once sacred site of thought had now been desecrated and it had broken something within the youthful elf for, but only a short time. For, it was within his means to tidy the mountain top with what rations he had left to endure his time there. For what had been to the rest of the world an entire year- it had merely felt like weeks to the young Kassian as he had chosen to reside upon the mountain until he had come to any sort of conclusion about his fate in this trifling time. During this year the would-be intrepid herald of the great drake found himself sitting beneath the tree with closed eyes and splayed palms ‘pon lap. Within his mind did he bide his time and for only, but a few hours a day he would allow himself to gaze upon the realm his father had wrought. Hours turned into days which turned into weeks and then unto months and then on the fourth day of the Grand Harvest; Kassian had a dream. Stood across the ravine was a figure- the way a crow flies, Kassian figured this was too far of a distance to dare crossing within. He looked to his left and then he looked to his right as a paralysing feeling crept along his back. He turned cold- Cold as ice. Colder. Though, he was not frightened, but instead this frigid feeling made him wish to look upon the figure which gazed back with a certain malevolence which struck fear into the very heart of Kassian. . . A wrenching twist was felt in his gut as he dropped to his knees with a gaping maw. . . The ravine closed and like a whirlwind the man appeared standing over him with a reflection that bore his own. “Who are you?” Kassian questioned. “I am you.” He who bore his own face replied. Two wings splayed from each end of his back, one wrought bone and the other an amalgamation of viscera. He, himself raised a blade which looked as if it had been born of the night sky and breathed upon by Azdromoth himself as its stygian surface boasted ribbons of radiant hues; a white he had never before seen- so pure and incandescent. But with that fleeting thought, that same blade crashing down upon the elf’s shoulder and in its wake the scene changed to an infernal realm with burning trees and charred corpses- oblivion it was. The panic was quick to overcome the elf- who’s dream had swiftly turned to a nightmare. Within moments he awoke still atop the same mountain he had slumbered upon. He returned home on the fifth of The Grand Harvest, the very next day. When he arrived at the inner sanctum of the dragonkin he looked to them and found no resemblance to their former selves, but instead a dragon they had now become. He did not speak and instead lowered his head as he simply laid down on his bunk with a sigh. “Is it my death that is my Asioth? Is my end to be brought upon by my own hand?” He worriedly whispered to himself as he stared at the ceiling. Only time would tell what the fates had lain out for Kassian, but if his father was the King, then he was to be a Prince of Dragons and should his dream be as he believed it to be, then he would not find a rival other than his own ambitions. . . “Tread with thought.” The nephilim, Balthazar’s voice, echoed within his head before he closed his eyes- Falling to sleep, but this time without the company of dreams. (Haven't posted in a while- thought I'd introduce a character and do some fun writing while i was true detective :) - enjoy if yaunt <3

Azhorgrond Doomforged votes for Sigrun Ireheart!!!

"Oh. . . Oh ****." A youth cursed as his gaze caught sight of a local recruitment drive setting up station within his town.

I am joyful to see that you have put much time and thought into this piece. I hope that it gets honestly reviewed with the continuation of the intent in restoring the nephilim’s place within the community and narrative as a positive force for the story. +1 and good luck homeboy 🫡.

THE RETURN OF THE BEARD The Addresses of Rhaezaiil Doomforged | Sealed With The Wroth of Urir [A Doomforged high priest of Dormmar shares what he had foreseen within his dreams. The words he uttered were wrought of myth and legend.] “And so, brothers and sisters of Urir- The lord of flesh has made deliverance of prophecy unto me dreams and it is He who has foretold the future of our legacy. . . Look to the mountain, blood o’ mine blood- For it is there we must remain steadfast in this age of Ruin to come.” -- Azhorgrond The Wise, Doomforge. The young dark dwarven lord’s features became briefly visible in the dead of night as he struck a match which failed to remain alit. With another strike he conjured forth a flame and lit the lantern upon his bedside. A light grumble escaped him as he ruffled his locks of stygian hair which draped along his coal stained features. He had not seen the light of day in many moons since his trip into the deeproads and ‘pon the eve of his return he was called back a night early in urgency. He heeded the missive granted to him by the dwarven courier and scowled ‘pon its contents. He cast it unto the vast abyss before the ledge he stood ‘pon and turned his back to the reaches of the deeproads as he made his return in haste. The youthful lord wasted not a minute in making his ire known as he vehemently staked his claim unto the manor which had been rightfully his. “That damned Irongut craven.” The dark dwed cursed as he felled one of the home’s brick walls. The scion of Dormmar stepped over the rubble and debris as he made way into his newfound dwelling- sighing as he had been relieved to finally step foot inside of the manor for many moons. There was little in the lands of Eos and Aos that could rival that of dwarven anger and this furious dark dwed had been testament to such a tale. Rhaezaiil soon settled himself and began to pen several documents and missives pertaining to the inception of the Ankor’Akvel and various responses to reports he had received of darkspawn within The Grand Kingdom. ‘Pon the conclusion of his study, the Doomforged would call ‘pon that of his kin in an assembly of Dorkadrelian fashion. For, as there was a tempest within his own kingdom, he could sense there was as well a storm brewing in his clan. He would hark to their words of change and grant honest audience to those of his kin who would flee to the colonies. [!] A certain missive is presented to the public [!] “The sons and daughters of Urir. Let it be known that per our tenets, the Clan of Doomforge will retain and maintain its eternal and undying oaths of loyalty and fealty to the Grand Kingdom of Urguan. And, those that do not will be branded ‘Brightiron’ alike the servants of Khorvad and Velkan-kin of yore. For, to break the tenet of loyalty is to commit an act of sacrilege against The Clan and Her children.” -Signed, Rhaezaiil Doomforged - Lord Beard of Ankor’Akvel, Lord of the Doomforged Clan, Son of Draakopf, Keeper of Balance, Lord of The High Forges, Lord of The Deeproads and Protector of Mountain Folk. [!] A crest of sealed wax belonging to that of Doomforged heraldry [!]

BLOOD [Ankor’Akvelian warband journeying through the Blackbrook mountain range within the outskirts of Urguan.] “Harken unto my words kin o’ mine. Blood o’ mine blood, we will stand stalwart amidst the storm conjured by the servants o’ Khorvad.” The great deceiver has sown disruption and chaos within our Grand Kingdom; the eternal legacy of Urguan Silverbeard. Balance must be maintained within the world and recent events have cast light ‘pon the beards working in the shadows to instil ruin within our borders. I call upon the scions of Yemekar and Dungrimm’s most intrepid warriors and shieldmaidens to form the Ankor’Akvel. Those beards that brandish steel under the banners of this royal guild are sworn by blood and oath to protect and serve the realm of Urguan and its peoples. Those who bear our colors and don our armaments will be recognized within the Grand Kingdom and treated with the respect that comes with being a warrior of the Brathmordakin. Blood will be sought only to protect the denizens of the realm and never otherwise. We shall take up arms against the forces of disunification and undeath as a whole as we enter a new age of our grandiose kingdom. Such an age may only be crested there upon the conclusion of securing Urguan and her borders and unifying the great clans of yore as they have been for centuries past and centuries to come. Tenets Kinslaying is forbidden unless the beard is traitorous or has a warranted death by the High Courts of Urguan. All those within the ranks of the realm guard are sworn to quell the and vanquish the legions of undeath. All those within the ranks of the realm guard are meant to uphold their brethren and comrades amidst the fray of battle. This tenet is never to be broken or they shall be sent to Dungrimm’s fields of torment. “No Dwed left behind.” Speaking with the dead or consulting with demonkin is strictly forbidden. The use of sunlit armaments is strictly forbidden as it reflects poorly on Dwarven Steel and its capabilities without relying on boons of false idols. The Temple of the Worldmaker is to be patrolled and upkept routinely. The path of Yemekar and Dungrimm is to be followed devoutly. One must be convicted in their faith to the Brathmordakin. Ranks Lord-Beard of The Realm Guard - The master of the order and its caretaker. It is up to them to maintain the realm guard and its warriors. Warden of the Realm Guard - The second in command of the order. Their responsibilities fall in line with that of the Lord-Beard and it is up to them to keep the gears turning. Scion of the Realm Guard - The bulwark of the order. Each of these beards have completed their trials and have been blooded into the realm guard. Scribe of the Realm Guard - The wisdom of the order. The voice of reason within the court of Ankor’Akvel and the masters of investigation. Warlock of the Realm Guard - The magick practitioners of the order. These beards are meant to serve the realm guard in situations regarding the supernatural. Additional Information If you are interested in seeking audience with the Lord-Beard for an opportunity to serve the realm then send a letter to the crown of Urguan and one shall be penned in return shortly. (Reach out to me on discord @hotbox_monk#8587) Signed, Lord Rhaezaiil Doomforged of Az’Nolvar

“Yes.” A voice replies to a lone Irongut. @Xergarok

I am the messiah to the Fjarriagua.

Comment retracted because I received no upvotes and I do not post repless content.

Rhaezaiil dipped a quill into a jar of ink and began to pen a response, but his mind clashed within itself. He failed to impart anything meaningful upon the parchment and crumple after crumple he would try and try again. The dark dwarf furiously flipped the desk and began to pace back and forth within his quarters. “Harken me blood o’ my blood. A storm is brewing.” The lord beard murmured to himself as he sundered himself to the stone beneath his boots. Picking up where he left off he began to jot and scribble multiple letters upon the floor. Like a mad dog he growled and barked at himself whilst sealing each scrolled parchment with the Dorkadrelian Sigil. A wearisome sigh left him as he sent each and every one within the clawed grasp of Doomforged ravens. “Now…. To find the King.”